Perfection

Perfectionism is its own worst enemy; it single-handedly prevents itself from accomplishing its own ends. It does this by first setting impossible standards, then strictly enforcing them every step of the way. It demands that every detail be absolutely flawless before progress can be made. And in making such demands, it ensures that progress is never made. It is a bloated bureaucracy of the mind.

I am a recovering perfectionist. I don't know why I was born with such an odd disability, but I guess we all have our own demons to face. In my determination to break free of this strange prison, I have taken to writing. I like to write. Yet, in writing I find my symptoms of perfectionism to be most obvious.

My hope is that daily writing will help me to let go of my anxieties. My method is entirely contradictory in nature. I am attempting to loosen my self-imposed standards in a controlled way. I am practicing a lack of restraint.

But I do have to be a bit careful; my purpose is not to reject goals, but is to reject the method by which I have pursued them. I want to be able to produce a rough draft. I want to be able to look past my own mistakes. I want to be able to complete a thought without refining it first. It's not that I want my work to be any less perfect. I just want it to be more complete. I have left so many perfect beginnings unfinished that I find myself cherishing nearly all of my few, imperfect, yet finished, ends. Now there's some spit in Perfectionism's eye!

If I accomplish nothing else by this little exercise, I'll at least feel better about honestly and openly addressing one of my biggest weaknesses. For now I'll just focus on a little less flawlessness and a lot more completeness.